


Get Out (Maybe)

by h_itoshi



Series: FumaKen Week -18 [1]
Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Seriously this is just so dumb I'm sorry lol, Silly drunk decisions, What's this random dude doing in my bed hey he's pretty cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 08:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13899921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_itoshi/pseuds/h_itoshi
Summary: Prompt:"The house party me and my friends threw kinda escalated and after throwing out everyone I found this half naked person passed out in my bed but I can't be bothered to wake them up so I'm just gonna go to sleep and deal with it in the morning, they're kinda cute anyway"





	Get Out (Maybe)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tamamushigami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamamushigami/gifts).



> So @tamamushigami and I decided to write one fic a day for Fumaken Week (you know birthdays and so on) and the first thing I managed to create was this?? Idek guys I'll try and do better but I'll write these one a day so uhm, we'll just see how this goes xD

“Oh come on!” Fuma groans as he's already closed the bathroom door behind him only to flick on the light and find two girls intertwined on the edge of the bathtub, a questionable amount of clothing on both of them. “Get out!”

Normally, he might have paused and at least looked, maybe wiggled an eyebrow and dropped a filthy comment. But it's 4.30 in the morning, he's tired and the alcohol is starting to wear off to the point where he just wants to go to bed and fall asleep while eating fries.

The girls both quickly shrug into their clothes again and tumble out of the bathroom giggling and holding hands, and Fuma only finds himself jealous girls can get dressed so quickly despite the smooth bare skin he just saw.

He firmly locks the door behind him and pulls at the shower drape just to make sure there's really no one else in there. There's not, but he sees a sticky stain on the floor that's definitely something sugary and there's a faint hint of the contents of a stomach in the air. And as he takes a step forward he spots an empty condom wrapper on the floor and suddenly he feels like washing his hands just for touching the door handle.

A bang on the door makes him jerk and he realizes he should get back and help Hokuto throw people out.

The idea of a house party sounded great to begin with. Honestly, it was great too. Fuma's had so much fun, played drinking games and drank way too much and ate way too much garbage and met so many people he's never seen.

That's just the downside right now. It's almost morning and there's still so many random people in their apartment, and Fuma has a feeling he should doublecheck anything expensive they own is still here and that nobody threw up in anyone's bed but he can't be bothered.

He just wants to sleep.

“Time to go home, get out!” Hokuto calls and Fuma jerks as someone is shoved past right in front of him as he opens the bathroom door. “I heard there's an afterparty somewhere!”

Fuma doesn't think there is one but at least the random tall dude who's really pretty lights up and looks more willing to leave. At least Fuma thinks he's really pretty. He doesn't trust his judgement after that much vodka.

“I give up.” He announces and then stumbles past Hokuto back into the kitchen and living room area. He only stumbles because there's an ocean of shoes on the floor. No other reason.

He thinks Hokuto calls something after him, but honestly, he couldn't care less if some drunk falls asleep in the bathroom or eats all their pasta or whatever drunk people feel like doing.

So he goes to the kitchen to grab some water, half heartedly yelling at the people in the kitchen that there's an afterparty two blocks down. The fridge is filled up with various soda cans and beer bottles, but he manages to dig his arm past it and fish up a water bottle that's already opened but he doesn't care. The condense on the plastic is enough for him to want to drink it no matter who started it. As long as it's not alcohol in it he's happy.

“Hey, aren't you coming along to the afterparty?” A soft voice asks behind him, and he turns to face a cute girl with long straightened hair and false lashes, but he just makes a face as he closes the fridge.

“Nah. I'm gonna sleep.” He says simply, and even if she looks offended Fuma simply turns to head for his room. If he'd wanted to flirt with girls he would have already done so.

He waves at Hokuto across the room when he passes the living room while gulping water, and he sees that Hokuto's very close to giving up as well. Which is fine. Things will sort themselves out.

But then he opens the door to his own room which he's convinced was locked an hour ago, and sees someone in his bed.

“Seriously?” He groans out loud, but he closes the door behind him and locks it so no one else slips inside. He looks around to check the status of his room, but there's just some beer bottles on the carpet, foreign clothing on the floor and the one guy in his bed.

Fuma steps closer, prepared to shake this person awake and throw him out, hoping dearly that nothing suspicious has been going on in his bed or he'll have to sleep on the floor.

But as he looks down at the clothes on the floor, carefully poking at them, he only finds jeans, a cardigan and a necklace, a phone with a glittery purple case falling out of the jeans pocket as he manipulates the pile. Fuma frowns and picks it up, turning it over because it looks like a girl phone, the background picture of a fluffy brown poodle only adding to his suspicions. He takes another look around the room, but there really is no one else there. So he glances down at the guy, doing a double take when he looks at the face under the mess of black hair. He's pretty, and not only vodka pretty because Fuma kind of wants to lick his face and that must mean he's pretty for real. Jaw chiseled, lashes long and lips full, haircut probably stylish but it's hard to tell right now.

At least he's wearing a T-shirt, black fabric covering the shoulder that's not under the covers, and Fuma doesn't even feel bad about discreetly lifting the covers to see what else he wears. Dark underwear. Then smooth bare legs that seem to go on forever and Fuma wants to lift the covers more but then the guy shifts and Fuma jumps back.

But he doesn't move much, just groans softly and cuddles deeper into the pillow and Fuma's not that interested in throwing him out now. There _is_ room next to him after all.

So Fuma just sheds a majority of his clothes and slips into bed next to the guy, careful not to touch him as he steals back some of the covers. But the whiff of air following the pull of fabric smells really good and Fuma kind of wants to cuddle him.

In the end, he figures that he'll probably end up cuddling him in his sleep anyway and gives up trying to be careful, his arm brushing clothed back as he falls asleep figuring he can deal with the awkwardness in the morning.

 

The next thing he's aware of is a jerk next to him, the warm body in his arms pulling away and he sees sunlight behind his closed eyelids.

“Oh my GOD!” A somewhat gravelly but still melodic voice mumbles next to him, a tint of panic to it and Fuma wants to calm it down but he's barely half awake yet.

So he just groans and curls up to avoid the light, feeling like he's still drunk but he's not sure.

“Oh my god.” The voice repeats, followed by an audible swallow and Fuma feels the mattress shift next to him. “Holy shit.”

“Loud...” Fuma manages to complain, even though the voice really isn't loud, but it's the first word he came to think of that took little effort.

“Oh god. Sorry. Sorry.” The voice goes on, the gravelly tone to it gone and it's pleasant, almost enough that Fuma wants it to read him a bedtime story so he can sleep for another couple hours.

“Time?” Fuma tries, wondering if he really is still drunk or not but he can't muster enough effort to open his eyes.

“Uhm. Eleven. Five past.” The voice says, more uncertain than panicked now and Fuma groans because that's way too early.

“Sleep more.” He says, raising an arm to fumble for the other boy, finding a wrist and grasps it to pull him closer again.

“Wait, what?!” The other boy tries, holding himself upright against Fuma's feeble attempts to make him come back.

“Sleep more.” Fuma tries again, his voice getting more substance and he feels himself waking up against his will. “Panic later.”

“Panic now.” The guy protests, but he sounds a little amused as well, even if he's mostly tense.

“Later.” Fuma whines, but he's already slowly blinking his eyes open, frowning against the sunlight and it hurts his head.

“No, panic now!” The other boy insists, and Fuma finally manages to blink up at him, finding him even more gorgeous than he remembers from the previous night, his dark eyes wide with worry now and that jaw so defined from the angle Fuma's seeing it that he's momentarily distracted.

“Why... Are you looking at me like that?” He asks, and Fuma notices his perfect teeth.

“You're really beautiful.” Fuma says simply, too hungover for any social nuances.

“Oh.” The boy blinks, then wets his lips as a pink blush blooms onto his cheeks and Fuma thinks that maybe it was worth opening his eyes for this. “Thanks. I mean, you too. I mean. Uhm... I don't...”

“We didn't fuck.” Fuma mutters, raising his hand to his forehead to rub against the muscles that somehow feel stiff. “If that's what you're worried about.”

“We... We didn't?” The guys tries, sounding hesitant, and Fuma glances up at him, interested in that reaction. “Are you sure?”

“You were in my bed when I went to sleep. You were cute so I let you stay.” Fuma explains, then yawns and throws a hand over his mouth. “So I'm sure we didn't.”

“Oh.” The guy says, almost looking a little disappointed and Fuma's very tempted to sit up so he can watch his expression properly, but effort. “Sorry, I just assumed...”

“Can't promise you didn't fuck someone else though.” Fuma says lightly, voice still a little clogged with sleep. “Since I found you half naked in my bed.”

The boy bites his lip against an embarrassed smile, and Fuma somehow wants to smile back even if his face is still too tired for the motion. “I'm... pretty sure I didn't. Sorry I took your bed.”

“Don't worry about it. Sorry about the noncon cuddling.” Fuma pauses in favour of another yawn that feels like it dislocates his jaw. “What's your name?”

“Nakajima.” The guy says, and Fuma raises an eyebrow, which makes him smile softly and Fuma smiles back this time. “Kento.”

“Pleased to meet you. Kikuchi Fuma.” Fuma says, then raises his hand to tug at Kento's arm. “Now let's sleep some more.”

Kento laughs but lets himself be pulled down and Fuma firmly wraps an arm around him, blaming his behaviour on that he's definitely still drunk even though he's pretty sure he's not.

“What if I'm wide awake?” Kento asks, and Fuma just huffs.

“Then you lie here while I sleep. I'm offering you hungover pizza in like three hours and you should accept my date invitation.”

Kento laughs, like he can't believe what Fuma's even doing, but then Fuma feels him relax and he cuddles a little closer.

“Okay. I accept your date invitation.” Kento says with laughter in his voice, but Fuma's already going back to sleep.

 

 

~*~


End file.
